Rebirth
by shitpostaesthetic
Summary: After failing to regain her title, AJ Lee is confronted by the Wyatt Family.
1. Chapter 1

"And your winner, and _still _Divas Champion, Paige!"

The Anti-Diva smiled, clutched her retained title, and skipped around the ring, mocking the trembling AJ Lee in the ring. This was the first time AJ had failed to reacquire the title, and she was not taking the loss well. Watching Paige blow her kisses as she skipped out of the arena made AJ's blood boil, but she had to keep her 'crazy chic' in check. It had been awhile since she'd had an incident, and she didn't want to risk one anytime soon. She had to get back her baby, and she'd be fine.

The music went dead, and the arena was filled with the sounds of murmuring fans. Boos were tossed around, as they always were. Strands of hair fell over the diva's face, and she could feel everybody's eyes on her, watching her and judging her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but before anybody could realize it, the arena blackened. Fans gasped in surpise, turning on their phones to lighten the area. Startled, AJ rose to her feet, stumbling towards the middle of the ring. Was this an attack? She hadn't made many friends, it could be anybody.

A whistle echoed throughout the arena, and chills went up the Diva's spine. She felt unprotected without her belt, nothing to grip. AJ braced for impact, waiting for a blast to the face. The silence continued, until, laughter? The jumbotron lit up, and AJ stared up at the back of the only person she didn't suspect: Bray Wyatt. The man turned to face her, smiling, with his two followers on either side of him.

"They say...they say you're crazy, AJ," his laughter continued, a contrast to the blank faces of the men beside him, "Well, I say you're _passionate_. I say you're gifted, AJ, I say you're a queen, and I'm asking you, _I'm begging you, _to come home..._and rule._"

The girl glared up at Bray. She felt herself twitching, she had never been a fan of that word, _crazy. _He had called her passionate, but was that any better? They stared eachother down, and the arena darkened once more. A spotlight fell over the ring, and Bray was standing in front of the Diva. She jumped, and scrambled backwards. With Luke Harper and Erick Rowan behind her, she had nowhere to run. Bray smiled down at her.

AJ tried her best not to show any sort of fear, but the shock of realizing she might not be the craziest in the company was overpowering, and she had to stop herself from breathing too quickly. The larger man extended a hand, and AJ was reluctant to take it. She hesitated, but reached up and let him help her up. He looked at her, and his eyes smiled. He made a small noise, and whispered,

_"Abigail." _


	2. Chapter 2

The Diva staggered down the backstage hallway. It had been less than a week since the incident with the Wyatts, but the episode hadn't left her mind. She had more than an hour until her match with Nikki Bella, but she couldn't just sit in the locker room. She had to be moving. AJ still didn't understand who Abigail was, or why Bray must think she was her. The Diva had barely thought about how she would get her title back, her mind just wouldn't focus. She wracked her brain for some sort of clue, somebody to ask for help, and as Daniel Bryan turned the corner, she knew exactly who to turn to.

She hopped up to the bearded man, "Hello, Daniel!"

"Uh, hi, AJ?" Daniel greeted hesitantly, before trying to step around the girl.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out on injury?" She smiled, blocking him.

Daniel looked around for somebody who could help him out of this situation, "Actually, Brie wanted me to be here tonight to support her."

AJ scowled at the name unwittingly, "Oh, Brie! Right, you guys got married, congratulations!"

The man furrowed his eyebrows as AJ furiously pumped his hand, "AJ, what exactly do you want?"

She laughed, "What do you mean, Daniel? Why would I want something?"

He looked down at her condescendingly, "You haven't spoken to me since you put me in anger management with the devil's favourite demon himself."

She tried to keep up her facade, but she glared up at him as she realized he saw right through her, "Fine. I need your help, Daniel."

The bearded man grinned, "You need my help? Yeah, okay, AJ," He laughed, but as he saw her continuous expression, he dropped the grin, "You're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious, _Daniel," _AJ fidgeted, she could feel herself getting angry. She always hated talking to her exes.

"Why should I help you? You did abandon me at the alter, you know." Daniel reminded her.

"Oh, would you stop being petty, Daniel? That was two years ago."

He nodded his head, "You're right, you're right. I'm moving on, I've got a wife, I had the WWE Championship, I'm moving on."

"I should hope so. You wouldn't want me to call Dr Shelby again, would you?" AJ grinned at the glowering man, "I didn't think so. Now would you help me?"

"Fine. What's the problem?" Daniel asked, already annoyed with the situation.

AJ hesitated, "Bray Wyatt."

"B-Bray Wyatt?" The man panicked, "What do you mean Bray Wyatt?"

"You know, long hair, beard like yours, unwashed clothes, might even be crazier than me?"

Daniel backed up, trying desperately to escape the situation. He hadn't dealt with Bray Wyatt in a few months, and he didn't want to ever again. Daniel said, barely audible, "I thought he was gone. AJ, don't mess with the Wyatts. Just run."

AJ watched as the man stumbled backwards, knocked over some lights, and sprinted back the way he came. She felt hatred brewing in her chest, and fear growing in her stomach. Her hands got clammy, and her breathing accelerated. How could he abandon her in her time of need? She paced, and grasped to regain her composure. Pausing, she took a breath and decided to simply sugarcoat her fear. _Fake it till you make it, AJ, _she thought to herself, voice cracking as she laughed. Her hair bounced as she skipped back to the locker room to prepare for her match.


	3. Chapter 3

The diva grinned as she earned her first victory in weeks, savoring the sound of the ref counting, one, two, three. Of course, this wasn't her favourite method of winning, she'd much rather have her opponent tap out to her infamous Black Widow, but she'd count the win either way. Her music blared, and she slid away from the other diva, sweaty, but smiling. The ref grabbed her hand, declaring AJ the winner. Her opponent, however, scowled, clearly not happy with her loss.

Alicia Fox was already on her feet, in AJ's face. She screamed, how could she have lost? AJ hadn't had a win in weeks. Alicia was furious, she didn't lose. Her rage turned into action and before she had realized it she was slapping the victor, knocking her off her feet. AJ clutched her face, now enraged. She attempted to laugh about the incident, but as Alicia screamed down at her, she exploded.

AJ grabbed Alicia's hair, pulling her down to her level. Alicia screamed as AJ tried to slam her face on the mat. Pulling away, Alicia was redfaced. She kicked the diva, causing AJ to cower in her place. Alicia was furiously attacking the victor, until Paige's music came on.

AJ groaned as she heard the anti-diva run to the ring to join her attacker. The crowd was hopeful that this was Paige's face turn, but AJ knew better. She looked up at the two, who were squaring off. Alicia raised her eyebrows, daring Paige to stop her. Paige returned a cold grin, and Alicia smiled. Together, the two assaulted the victor. She was groveling, begging for them to stop. She looked up, and saw Paige toss Alicia a chair. AJ cringed as Alicia swung down the chair, the item making a loud _smack _as it touched her leg. She recoiled with each strike. The diva barely heard her attackers' music, barely heard them leave. She let out one raggedy breath, her ribs hurt like hell.

AJ lay in the ring, beaten and broken. She felt blood, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from. She curled into a ball as Paige's music ended. AJ was alone.

The lights went black. AJ yelped, surely it couldn't be? They weren't so direct, were they? AJ felt herself being pulled, not having enough strength left to fight back. She groaned, and the the lights came back on. The crowd was horrified to see the limp, broken body of their old divas champion AJ Lee tossed over the shoulder of the monstrous Erick Rowan like a ragdoll. He turned his head, sheep mask peering at the fans with eerie curiosity. He turned and trudged backstage.

AJ swung mercilessly as this creature carried her to her doom. She had no fight left in her, nothing. She drifted in and out of consciousness, seeing different panicked faces around her. She wheezed as she looked up, straight into the face of a wild eyed Luke Harper. He whispered to her, "Peekaboo, Princess. You're doomed." She squeaked in fear, burying her head into Erick Rowan's back. She felt him stop, and peeked up again. Bray Wyatt grinned from beneath his hat, the demon awaiting her. She tried to scream, but only managed to whimper before cringing in pain. Her ribs ached.

She felt the light slip away as she drifted into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Her head was pounding.

That was the first thing she noticed. She groaned, there was a light on somewhere that pierced her brain. Her eyes squinted open, barely able to take in the situation. She made out a ceiling, dusty and overrun with cobwebs. Was it wood? She couldn't tell. She rolled over. Where was she? She sat up, her ribs were killing her. The room was fairly large, especially with the lack of furniture. She was laying on a bed that was at least 60 years old, with a table in the corner holding a single lamp. She shook her head. Escape.

Her feet fell onto the floor, and she struggled to stand up. Her headache increased as she moved, and with help from her obviously broken ribs, she just slumped onto the concrete floor. Her knees bent back and her hands went out in front of her, like a child playing on the ground. She dropped her head, her hair falling in her face. There was a noise.

Scrambling, she jumped back onto the bed, the squeaking noise emphasizing her panic. She backed herself against the wall. The door at the other side of the room opened and her heart pounded as she stared into the face-the mask?-of Erick Rowan. He shut the door behind him as if she might slip out if he didn't. He stood at the door, staring at her, and it took the terrified girl a few seconds to realize he was holding a blue tray of food. She refused to eat it. Something in the back of her mind knew there must be something wrong with it. She started shaking, taking in too much breath. It was too much. Too much. She waited for him to do something, say something, but he just stood there, gazing at her. What the hell was he doing? Why was he just standing there? Her terror turned to rage and it boiled under her skin until she exploded, how dare they? She screamed at him, leaped off the bed, and he stood there as she charged at him, but he was just standing there, and she ran and she ran and she came at him with her overgrown nails, ready to kill him, but he just bent down, put her food beside him, and held onto her shoulders. She turned and bit his arm, blood running down her chin. She saw his eyes flash, and they shined beneath his mask but she was too furious to let this affect her. She wanted out. Needed.

He grabbed her firmly, but gently, by the waist, and hoisted her off the ground. Her arms flailed and she kicked him in the stomach, trying to get some leverage. She tried climbing away from him, but only managed to get halfway down his back when he threw her onto the dusty bed. She looked up at him and spit in his face, trying not letting him see that her hands were clearly trembling or that her eyes had turned glassy. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from her pockets, and she screamed even louder, clambering away, away, just trying to get away, but his monstrous hand grabbed hers and he clipped her to the bed. She pulled, shrieking, until her arm felt like it would be pulled from her socket, and he stood there, staring down at her. She expected something to happen, the details she tried to put out of her mind, but all he did was stare at her until she stopped struggling. She panted, and as she stopped, the tears that had been welling up pushed past the wall she built and trailed down her cheeks. This wasn't it, was it? There would be more, and more, she couldn't handle it, already she was breaking down. She wiped her cheek but they kept coming, too much. Too much.

Something was set beside her. She was too afraid to look at it. It must have only been another minute until Rowan left, but to AJ, it felt like years. She took another minutes before she stopped shaking, and another before she looked at what he had placed beside her. The back of her eyes started to ache again. The blue tray. She rolled over and closed her eyes. Too much.

* * *

_Hey guys! Thanks so much for the feedback and putting up my awful updating. I really appreciate it. Now, despite AJ's recent departure, and the Wyatt Family being over awhile ago, I will be continuing this. I might not be everyday, because of school and homework and stuff, but I will continue. That's a promise! _

_None of the characters belong to me, by the way. Just the storyline. _


	5. Chapter 5

She missed the sun. She missed the way it wrapped its warmth around her shoulders and the way the light would fall into her house on those sunny Sunday mornings. The room smelled like dust and cobwebs, and there was a strange dampness that made her stomach hurt. There were no windows, and she had yet to find any sort of cracks leading to the outside world. She even missed the days in the summer that she had to turn on the air conditioning. She'd lay outside in the sweltering heat just to feel the beat of the sun. She thought about her family. She cried when she thought about them worrying, furious at the Wyatts for making them have to go through that. She thought about her husband. She missed the way he laughed, the sleepy midnight kisses, the way they playfully tormented eachother. She remembered the time she woke up alone on her birthday and went the entire day before realizing he left her a message to meet him at the bowling alley. He had set up a whole day for the two of them and she just missed it because she hadn't checked her messages. She'd give anything right now to have it back.

It might have been a few days since Rowan last visited her, or it could have been a few hours. AJ didn't know. She didn't care. She slept for a long time. Mostly it was just blackness, an unconscious ache that followed her into her dreamless nights. Days. Whatever. The lamp never went off. She couldn't find a switch, she wondered if it was wired so the Wyatts could turn it off outside the room. She was thankful she hadn't found any hidden cameras. They had come in sometime when she was asleep and unclipped her handcuffs. The arm that been cuffed felt absolutely dead. She couldn't move it for at least a half hour. It didn't matter, though, what was she to do with it?

She felt a sudden need to use the washroom. Panic fled through her body as she realized there was no toilet in this room-what did they expect her to do? She couldn't hold it forever. She stood, wobbly legs barely supporting her. She hadn't left the bed in awhile, so her body wasn't used to the sudden weight. She stumbled across the room, still groggy, and stopped just outside the door. She brushed her fingertips across the surface, taking in some breath. There was no other way. Suck it up, AJ. She made a fist and hesitated, hearing her heartbeat in her ears. _You can do this. There's nothing they can do that you can't handle. _She pounded her fist against the door, shouting for the Wyatts. They did not answer; she wouldn't let them ignore her. She shouted louder, using both fists, screaming, screaming, they would not lock her away and simply forget about her. She would not become the dead canary. She would not let that happen. She screamed and slammed her hands on the door until her throat became sore and her fists started to bleed. She couldn't let them do this. She sunk to the floor. Her hands were shaking and her eyes were filling with tears and she couldn't stop it. She couldn't let this happen. She let out a raggedy breath. Her chest hurt.

Suddenly, the door swung open. She gasped, throwing her head up. Standing above her was surely a monster. She held her breath, terror holding her in her place, heart standing still, until the man above her opened his mouth and she screamed again. Fumbling backwards, she recognized the man. Luke Harper followed her gravely, stopping in the middle of the room. AJ saw he hadn't closed the door, and felt the urge to make a run for it, but the man's wild eyes seemed to see everything. He was huge. She didn't think she could run past him without him reaching out an arm and grabbing her. She whimpered.

"What?"

She didn't understand. She blinked, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted. Even from the ground, she noticed that his eyes were like black holes. She calmed as she stared into the man's eyes, she remembered. She stood up, slowly, trembling, forcing herself to put her arms at her side. She looked at him defiantly.

"Take me to the bathroom."

Harper said nothing, just watched her. His eyes were huge and crazed, and AJ immediately began to regret being so demanding. She tried to conquer her urge to shrink but his soulless eyes just seemed to bore into her and she lowered her head. Her hands met eachother and fiddled, how desperately did she wish she could climb into herself and shut herself away.

He was laughing.

She jerked her head up, furrowing her eyebrows, and he was laughing. It seemed to start small, a few breathy puffs, before it got louder, and he was shaking. It was a rumbly, stretched laugh, and he flicked out his tongue. She watched with her jaw dropped as this terrifying man wiped a tear from his eye, wheezing at her one statement. She scowled up at the cackling man. He turned around, still laughing, dragging himself to the open door. He stopped in front of it to catch his breath. He turned to her, grinning.

"Thank you, Abigail. I'll ask."

He left her.

* * *

_Hey guys! I really appreciate all the reviews and stuff. I'm getting more into this story, so hopefully I should be more on top of the updates. I've got a lot in store. Special thanks to killura and pitysobs (on tumblr lmfao) for helping me conquer this chapter and giving me some insight! I really appreciate it. _


	6. Chapter 6

The smell of pancakes drifted into her nose, and when she sat up, she was drowsily delighted to wake up in her own bed. Sleep still clung to her so, groggily, she stumbled to the kitchen in her pajamas. Her hair had been thrown into a lazy ponytail which she couldn't remember doing. It didn't matter. She raised her arms above her head and let the tension flow out of her as she stretched to the sky. Sunlight tumbled from her window onto her skin and she rejoiced in its morning warmth. Smiling, she made her way downstairs. The house seemed to be filled with sunlight. She loved the feeling, the happy half asleep state she stumbled around in. She touched the photographs on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. There was one of her husband and her, standing in front of the CN Tower with plastic smiles plastered on their faces, and another with her mother and her at the beach when she was very young. She even had put up a very nice photo of her dog. She remembered how much her husband had protested, but after awhile he must have realized that it really didn't matter, so she put it up.

As she passed the front door, she turned into the hallway, and noticed that the light seemed to dim. AJ walked around twisted corners that all lead to nowhere. Each hall looked the same to her. She ignored the uneasiness that began to settle in her stomach. The smell of pancakes was still rich, and she found herself running down the hallways, breathing a little faster now. She looked at the walls. The photos were the same as the ones she looked at earlier-plastic smiles and all. She ran faster still. It felt like the hallways were getting narrower, closing in on her. There were no doors that she could see, no windows. The ground was very dusty.

As she turned the corner, she stopped. At the end of the hall, there was a single door. She took a step towards it, and another, and another. The hallway stretched on forever but she somehow she knew this was where she needed to be. The door was concrete, contrasting to the wooden floor. She touched the knob, surprised as to how cold it felt. An urge to know seemed to rush through her. Now or never, she thought, and pushed open the door, heart pounding in her chest. The room was dark, but she could tell it was the kitchen. The smell of pancakes mixed with mothballs overtook her and she had to stop herself from covering her nose. Standing at the counter was someone she didn't recognize. They had their back to her, so she couldn't see their face. The room was silent besides the heavy breathing that came from the girl. The pressure in the room pushed her to take a step forward. She croaked out a hello, so hushed that at first she thought she was inaudible. The person stopped, turned slightly, and she had the desire to run back to her sunlight filled home.

The light flickered quickly. She balled up her fists and took up a fighting stance despite her desperate need for escape. She knew somehow that this was not a situation that would let her choose the option of flight. Everything was in slow motion as the person turned around and faced her, head down. Their long, greasy hair hung in front of their face and their unkempt beard looked it was home to maggots and other bugs that AJ couldn't identify. They wore a straw hat, white pants, and a tourist-esque button shirt that covered a sweaty black shirt. They started laughing softly. AJ felt water rushing down her cheeks. She couldn't remember when she had started crying. Her fists shook violently now and panic took over her.

She screamed at the person, "What do you want from me?"

They laughed even harder now, slowly raising their head. AJ made out two twinkling black eyes, a nose, a beaming smile. Terror flushed her as she stared into the face of Bray Wyatt and her fists were trembling even harder. Her knees were wobbling so badly she was surprised she hadn't toppled over by now. He took a step towards her. She stepped back. He took another step. She stepped back. He took another step, and another, and another, until he was a foot in front of the wavering girl. AJ pressed herself into the kitchen door, fists, hesitant, but still ready to strike need be. He fell to his knees. By now, he was not laughing, just staring up at her with a solemn expression; his eyes seemed to begging her to act. Her heavy breaths filled the room once more.

"I want you to remember," He said softly, voice almost a whisper, "I want Abigail."

His cackle sounded again, ringing in her ears, buzzing around in her brain like flies and she turned around. The door had opened and she ran back down the hallways but his laugh echoed around, bouncing on the walls, trying to catch her. She ran as fast as she could, but she couldn't escape and his laughter grew louder. Her heart was a drum that beat so quickly in her ribs. She couldn't get the sound out of her mind.

Her eyes shot open and she breathed in reality, drinking it in. She was relieved to be somewhere she knew, but this was not what she wanted. She wanted to be in her own home, in her own room, in her own bed. Things didn't always go perfectly in her old life, but she was comfortable, she was happy then. The bed was still wet, she hadn't been allowed to go the bathroom. Not yet, they had said. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision. They spilled onto her cheeks before she could stop them. She wept. She hadn't let a single tear trail down her face in at least a few days, and she felt ashamed to let herself spill open like this. Still, there was no one around, nobody to watch her. She let herself cry more. There wasn't any more reason not to. She was nothing, anymore. She had no reason to fly away.

Suddenly, she was a child again. She ran into a garden, one she did not recognize, but she seemed to know the place. She was giggling. A man hunched over something, smiling at her. She felt so happy, overjoyed, that she beamed at him. He had a small cage in his one hand, his other reaching to pick up a bird that had fallen on the ground. It twitched, hurt, and she dropped her smile, letting out a noise one could only describe as a sad mix of sorrow and sympathy. She rushed towards him, kneeling, and he shushed her, not wanting her to startle it. She watched as he put the bird into the cage so lovingly, stroking it with his one finger. As he locked the cage door, she saw it hop up. It sang for them, the most beautiful song she had ever heard. Its one yellow wing stuck out, bent; it would not tuck back nicely into its side. Tears welled up in her eyes in compassion for the yellow canary.

Gasping for breath, her legs stretched out in front of her and arms supported her as she leaned back, head in the air. The ache in her chest tightened despite her intake of breath. She tucked in her knees and wrapped her arms around them, dropping her head. A lump formed in her throat but she had no tears left. She had nothing left.


	7. Chapter 7

She'd wet the bed.

Judging by her, albeit, fucked up internal clock, it was at least 24 hours since she had asked to use the restroom. She thought her interaction with a certain black-eyed devil's helper had been fairly positive, at least, more positive than any other previous encounter. Though it couldn't have been that positive, or she wouldn't be sitting in the unsettling warmth of wet bedsheets. She wasn't even sure if this would be a big enough reason for them to let her leave The Room. Her broken ribs weren't, so maybe she'd just have to learn to live with the smell of piss. Good god, she thought, was this her life now? Was she actually becoming used to being held captive? She felt a pinch behind her eyes, and shook out the thought.

She peeled herself off the damp mattress. She was almost positive she was alive, but god, she felt like she was dead. She had a crick in her neck and a wheeze in her breath that hadn't left her since her arrival. It didn't take much to get her up; the smell of urine was too potent to stay sitting. She stood for a second, still tired. That was something else she had gotten used to, being tired. Without having natural light, she couldn't tell the difference between day or night, so she just slept all the time. Sighing, she trudged to the door, studied it. How many times had she stood there, just staring, hoping it might unlock and she'd be free? She had practically memorized the thing. The exact colour was stained into her mind, a dark green, like the colour of a dusty chalkboard; and every single place the paint peeled. She memorized the little lines in the middle near the bottom, scratch marks. The golden door handle, the one she'd spent countless hours just twisting in her hand. She'd pretended she was locked out of her house once. She tried to call Punk, and cried when she couldn't. She was sick of this door.

"Hello?" She called out, knocking, "Please, I need to talk to someone. Please let me talk to somebody."

Her voice was hoarse, still groggy. She was always groggy. She wondered, suddenly, if they had drugged her food. It wouldn't have been hard, and it wasn't like she had any other choice but to eat it. Dammit, how could she have been so weak? This way, she was always out of her senses; brain too dusty to try to fight back. Her joints felt so rusted, of course they drugged her food. She felt so paranoid. What else would those bastards do?

"Goddammit, would somebody help me out here? Hello!" With that, the door swung open, ssacking her in the face and knocking her off her feet.

"Miss Abigail!" Erick Rowan's massive hands reached for her, hoisting her up by her elbows. He kept bowing his head, silently apologizing for his mistake. Luke Harper stood beside him, blank-faced. AJ grimaced at the two, heart racing. She hid her shaky hands by balling them into fists; she would never let them think they won.

"You know, when you get a pet, you're supposed to take care of it. Change its litterbox, take it for walks, give it a bath," The two looked utterly bewildered, had they heard sarcasm before? Then again, knowing Bray, probably not, "There was a reason I asked to use the washroom."

"My apologies, Abigail. I had asked, but He merely said that you were not finished with your revelations. He wanted you to have more time."

"Well, I don't think some clean bedsheets, and maybe a bath is going to interrupt my revelations."

The henchmen nodded their heads, closing the door behind them. AJ stood there, holding onto her elbows, watching them walk to her bed and remove the sheets. She moved her eyes to the floor, folding into herself. This was so demeaning. She hadn't wet the bed since she was nine years old. As they left the Room, wet sheets in tow, Rowan turned to her, "We will be back."

The door closed, leaving AJ alone again. She knew they were her captors, but she always felt so despondent when they left. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of interaction, or the change of pace. Maybe they were hypnotizing her somehow. She walked around the room. How long had she been in here? She wondered what the Outside was like. Was she the only one here? Maybe they'd open the door and she'd hear a thousand other screams with a thousand other Abigails here with her. Would they let her leave the room fully conscious? Maybe they'd handcuff her. She sat down, a few feet from the door. Did they even have a bathtub? Sometimes she didn't think so, judging by how the Wyatts had smelled in the WWE. She smelled so bad, now, she couldn't tell the difference.

She layed on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She had realized it was concrete, just like the rest of the room. Why did they fear her escape? The Wyatts were tricky, they weren't like regular people. If somebody else had kidnapped her, she could have easily chalked it up to them being crazy, but she felt like the Wyatts were legitimate. She wasn't sure if it was demons, or witchcraft, but something here just felt real. Her mind began to drift to her nightmare, and soon enough she started shaking. Did they put that in her mind? They would do anything to break her, she knew it.

The door creaked open and she flew up, on her feet. Luke Harper smiled at her, eyes lifting at the edges.

"Would you come with me?"

She froze, unsure of what to do. He seemed so kind at that moment, but he was a Wyatt. Nothing they ever did was in kindness. Still, it was better that having to stay in The Room. She took tiny steps towards him, shivering more as she got closer. He took her arm gently, and she peeked out. She was at the end of a very long hallway. They left The Room, together. She found herself clinging to him, the only familiarity before her. She wanted to puke, but she was so desperate for freedom she kept steady on her feet. The walls were scattered with framed pictures but she didn't dare look at them. They reached the end of the hallway, and Harper kept going, walking towards a door. He stopped in front of it, beaming at her. He opened it. She saw a running bath and she cried.


End file.
